


a moment dressed in meaning

by Lire_Casander



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22544983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: The sun has barely peeked above the mountains on the horizon when Alex hit the border between New York and Massachusetts. He was so tired the night before after almost fifteen hours driving with little to none long stops, that he had to find a motel to crash outside of Albany when he was a hundred miles away from the signal that announcesWelcome to Massachusets. Barely five hours later — thank God for his nonexistent need for long naps after three tours in war — heʼs pushing the pedal to the ground and singing to the latest My Chemical Romance hit on the radio while he follows the instructions his GPS is giving him. He checks the hour and frowns.He has to be on time, today of all days, and heʼs already a little behind schedule.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 12
Kudos: 81





	a moment dressed in meaning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LilasSparks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilasSparks/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Lilas! Here's to wishing you an amazing year and an even more amazing birthday! I'm really really happy that I've got to meet you through fandom, it's one of the things I'll forever thank RNM for. I hope you have a lovely day!
> 
> This is completely unbeta'ed, so all and any mistakes are mine. Title from Maldita Nerea's _La Historia de tu Vida_ , translation by yours truly.
> 
> Please take into account that I'm not American, therefore I know nothing about road trips and the like, but Google told me that a drive from Roswell to Boston takes up around 33 hours non-stop, and I know it's insane, but he wanted to drive. And I'm not one to fight my characters when they want to do crazy stuff like that.

The sun has barely peeked above the mountains on the horizon when Alex hit the border between New York and Massachusetts. He was so tired the night before after almost fifteen hours driving with little to none long stops, that he had to find a motel to crash outside of Albany when he was a hundred miles away from the signal that announces _Welcome to Massachusets_. Barely five hours later — thank God for his nonexistent need for long naps after three tours in war — heʼs pushing the pedal to the ground and singing to the latest My Chemical Romance hit on the radio while he follows the instructions his GPS is giving him. He checks the hour and frowns. 

He has to be on time, today of all days, and heʼs already a little behind schedule. 

He hums along the music, tapping his fingers onto the steering wheel, while Buffy sleeps in her pet carrier placed on top of the passengerʼs seat. She’s the main reason why he isn’t flying — being in secluded spaces stresses her out — but he couldn’t make it out of the base when he wanted to, so he started his road trip with little time to spare in sightseeing. Isobel will give him the cold shoulder if he doesn’t make it to the ceremony, but he still isnʼt sure heʼs going to reach his destination in time. 

Heʼll face her wrath when it happens. 

The GPS tells him that heʼs three hours away, and after doing some math he calculates he may even have time for a shower, if Buffy can pass without her early-in-the-day walk and settle for a stroll to the facility where the ceremony is held. Alex sighs contentedly as he thinks of whatʼs to come for them all today. 

His phone, connected by Bluetooth to the carʼs central console, starts buzzing and ringing, waking Buffy up. He sends her an apologetic sideways glance before pushing a few buttons into the touch screen of the console, the music quieting and Isobelʼs voice filling the silence. 

“Please tell me youʼre on your way,” she says instead of greeting. 

“Good morning, Alex,” he replies mockingly. “How’s your ride going, Alex? Is Buffy excited, Alex?” 

“No time for pleasantries,” she cuts him off. “Things are going down the hill here, where are you?” 

“A little over two hours away,” Alex confirms after checking the GPS again. Buffy barks her annoyance. “I might have to stop for Buffy to stretch, and then Iʼll need a shower and a change of clothes, so maybe two hours and a half, give or take? Three hours tops.” 

“We donʼt have three hours,” Isobel tells him. There’s a despairing in her voice Alex hasnʼt heard in a long time. “Iʼm going crazy here. _Theyʼre_ driving me crazy.” 

“Ask Liz for help,” Alex advises. Buffy growls but gets back to sleep, and for that he is grateful — he wouldn’t be able to focus on driving unknown roads with a distressed beagle by his side. “She’s usually collected.” 

“She’s sent Max and Michael to me in the middle of the night, Alex,” Isobel whines. He knows she will deny ever pitching up her voice, but heʼs heard her. “Michael is completely stressed out, and instead of calming him down, Max somehow has managed to start a fight.” 

“Please tell me they havenʼt hit each other,” Alex pleads. The last time Max and Michael fought, in the aftermath of bringing Max back to life, both had ended up with a black eye and a split lip. 

“They havenʼt,” she assures him. “ _Yet_. Please hurry up.” 

“I’ll do what I can, Iz,” he promises her in a soothing tone. “But I canʼt really speed it up much or else I might have an accident.” 

“Come straight to the hotel,” she instructs. “I will have everything ready and we will take care of Buffy while you shower. Michael needs you. I need you.” 

The call gets disconnected shortly afterwards, leaving Alex holding onto the steering wheel with a tight grip. Heʼs known for a long time that today was going to take its toll on Michael, and he knows he should have traveled up to Boston sooner. Sometimes life gets in the way, he tells himself as he takes the correct turn in the high road. 

Alex knows that life — and themselves, most of the time — has got in the way of their happiness more than once. And heʼs not even talking about that day in the shed. He checks once again the scheduled time of arrival, and sighs, going back to his thoughts. 

He reminisces the day he met Forest as he rushes past Newton, a little bit closer to Boston. Alex allows the pain that heʼs learned to associate to that particular moment in his life wash over him. Forest had been a blue blur of fresh air and promises from the very second theyʼd run into each other at the grocery store. Michael had been going through the worst of his spiral into all hell, and Alex had been too hurt by the fact that he was adding salt to the ever-open wounds in Michael’s soul. 

Forest had been a distraction that had lasted two years too long. 

Two years while Michael gathered himself and Alex waded through the motions of being in a healthy relationship. He hadnʼt put his whole heart into it, though — there always was a missing piece of the puzzle Alex is, left behind along with the last piece of the glowing console that would take Michael away. 

Two years for Michael to get sober and graduate from college, his stunt with Maria long forgotten. Two years for Forest to muster up the courage to ask Alex to marry him. Too bad Forest chose to propose the same night of Michael’s graduation. 

They tried being friends. _Really_ friends. Alex gave Michael the only way back home, and Michael chose not to complete his starship until heʼd finished all the things heʼd wanted to accomplish on this planet. 

And now, three years after that, Alex is driving through half the States in an attempt to get in time to Michael’s MIT graduation for the hope of being finally seen. After Maria, after Forest, after the pain of seeing Michael falter and fall, after the hurt of seeking love in the wrong arms, Alex feels theyʼre finally ready. 

The small box resting on top of Buffyʼs pet carrier is his promise for that future.

Alex doesn’t stop anymore, his prosthesis bothering him by the time he pulls up to the hotelʼs parking entrance — the townʼs traffic is crazy, and he didn’t want to risk having to seek for a parking spot on top of arriving short of time. Isobelʼs already waiting for him by the curb, tapping the point of her expensive stilettos on the ground. 

“Isobel,” he greets as he slides out of the car, allowing Buffy to jump outside her cage and run toward Isobel. “Iʼm sorry I didnʼt get here on the scheduled time.” 

She smiles and kisses his cheek after she’s done scratching Buffy behind her ears. “You canʼt control when you get out of that hell of a job you still have with the military, Manes,” she tells him, his last name rolling off her tongue in a teasing way. Ever since his fatherʼs death, ever since putting Flint behind bars and making amends with Gregory and Harlan, his family name hasnʼt been a burden. Heʼs still trying to undo what his legacy did for decades, but thereʼs no longer a burning bite in that one syllable. 

“So, theyʼre nervous. It’s normal, Michael’s giving a speech as the first of his class and the best score of the whole MIT history.” He allows the bellman to grab his bag, scarce luggage since heʼs supposed to be back on base by Monday, and walks beside Isobel inside the hall. “Cut him some slack, Iz, it’s the first time heʼll have so many eyes on him for a reason thatʼs not a bar brawl.” 

Isobel sighs. “Heʼs nervous, but not only because of that,” she explains. “Heʼs saying something about entropy and quiet, and heʼs been asking for you ever since heʼs woken up.” 

Alex feels a surge of pride and warmth flooding him. “And that was when?” 

“Before sunrise?” she says, coming to a halt at the reception desk, where Alex has to do his check-in in order to get his hotel room key card. He makes quick work of that — after all, Isobel made sure the hotel was at least a four-star business with optimal Internet reviews and an all pet welcome policy — and picks up his bag from the bellman whoʼs already waiting for him on the side while Isobel grabs Buffyʼs leash tighter. 

“Letʼs go,” he sighs as they enter the elevator. “Take me to his room, I will shower and change later.”

“That talk of entropy rings a bell to you?” she asks incredulously. She pushes the correct button and the elevator starts with a loud whirring noise. “Incredible.” 

Alex shrugs and doesn’t say a word until the elevator door opens and Buffy manages to get freed from Isobelʼs grasp and rushes toward a door by the end of the corridor. The sound of her tiny paws on the carpeted floor alerts whoever is behind the door, that opens with force. Buffy barks happily when Michael steps out and greets her. “My girl!” 

Alex’s breath catches in his throat. Michael looks good, better than when they last saw each other in flesh, during Christmas break because Michael hadnʼt been able to make it back home for spring break, and itʼs turning Alex’s heart into a Cirque du Soleil wannabe, with all those somersaults. “Michael,” he whispers, suddenly nervous, suddenly shy. He wonders if heʼs going to be welcome after all. 

“Alex,” he breathes, leaving Buffy on the floor and sauntering toward him. He feels Michael’s heat before his arms go around him and heʼs engulfed in a tight hug that crushes all his doubts under a thick layer of love. “You’re here.” 

“You thought I wouldn’t come?” Alex whispers as he hugs Michael back, holding onto the feeling of his curls brushing against his cheek. “Iʼm sorry I wasnʼt here last night. Got out of the base later than planned.” 

Michael nods against his neck, not letting go. “I know. But I was kinda scared?” he confesses. “I thought maybe youʼd changed your mind.” 

“Never,” Alex promises. “Can we get inside?” 

“Yes, please,” Isobel says behind them. “You’re starting to gross me out.” 

Michael flips her a finger playfully before ushering Alex inside his room. Buffy follows them, but Isobel remains outside. When Alex steps inside, he sees Max sitting on the bed with his head in his hands, Liz hovering over him with a wide smile. “Hey, Alex!” she greets him, nudging Max so he looks up and smiles tiredly. “Weʼre so glad you could make it in time! We, uh, weʼll leave you alone,” she continues, walking past them with Max hot on her heels. They close the door at their back. 

Alex arches an eyebrow elegantly at Michael, who has the decency of looking bashful. “I might have driven them crazy,” he whispers. “Iʼm really nervous, like Iʼve never been before. And you werenʼt here and I—” Michael looks away briefly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t say that. But itʼs just—your presence calms me. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that either.” 

“Michael,” Alex says soothingly. “Itʼs okay. Iʼm also a lot calmer when you’re around.” 

Itʼs been a while since Alex hasnʼt thought of Michael as _Guerin_ , as Maria likes to point out every time she gets the chance to chastise him for not fighting for his dreams. Maria and Kyle both, who havenʼt been able to make it to Boston, but who are rooting for them. Kyle, who told him how they have been dating for the best part of three years without noticing, all through Michael’s hectic first year at MIT. Maria, who apologized and then smacked him for being so blind. His best friends, along with Liz, who have helped him craft the gift heʼs offering Michael. 

Buffy is sniffing a guitar propped against the bed. 

“Music hasnʼt helped?” he asks, trying for a less loaded subject. There’s a tightness in his chest whenever he meets Michaelʼs honey eyes. He caresses the wood with one slender finger. 

“No,” Michael says with a soft voice. 

“Do you want me to play something?” He doesn’t wait for Michael to ask, drawn to the instrument. Alex sits down, ignoring the pain in his stump, and places the guitar on his lap. 

Maybe he isn’t so subtle about his aching limb, because Michael tries to pry the guitar out of his hands with a worried frown. “How long have you had the prosthesis on?” When Alex doesn’t reply, instead of strumming some tune, Michael insists, “Alex.”

He shrugs. “I had to come here as soon as possible. Isobel called me to tell me you were a bit out of sorts.” 

“I needed you,” Michael confesses, voice soft with caring. “But not at any cost. Lemme, I will give you a massage.” 

Alex tries to stop him, but Michael begins to work the leg of his fatigues trousers up, and the motion makes the box heʼs hastily shoved inside his pocket fall out. It bounces on the floor and the lids opens, the gleaming of the key inside catching Michaelʼs eye. “What is this, Alex?” he asks, forgetting momentarily about the massage he intended to give him and moving his hand to the floor to pick the key up from the box. “Alex?” 

When he looks up, there’s doubt and hope in those amber eyes, feelings so strong that almost knock Alex back with their intensity. He sighs and leaves the guitar back against the bed. Losing his shield from the world, he feels suddenly naked and completely seen. 

“Listen, Michael, it’s not what it seems.” 

“Then what is it?” Michael questions, brandishing the key in front of his face. “It looks like a key to some house to me.” 

“Itʼs a key to my house,” he whispers, stretching his hand out and trying to take the key from Michael’s grip. “I thought—itʼs actually silly.” He halts, not knowing how to continue when Michael recoils and clutches the key close to his heart. 

“Somehow I don’t think so,” Michael points out. “I thought we were done with our past habits, Alex. I thought we were being honest now.” 

“I know you have your Airstream,” Alex blurts out. “I know that. But I’ve been thinking. Weʼre doing so well lately, and it seems Weʼre becoming great friends and I thought—I thought all my friends have a key to my house. Except you. So.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, waiting for Michael’s words dismissing the effort heʼs put into this gift, not seeing further than the surface and into Alex’s real feelings — that Alex sees it as a promise of more, of a day when Michaelʼs things take upon half of the drawers. Alex knows heʼs a dreamer, and dreaming kinda got him into war but also _through_ it, and right now he doesn’t care about how his dreams might be shattered if Michael chooses to let him down gently. 

Right now Alex is focusing on Buffy, whoʼs blinking sleepily at him while he feels his own heart putting up walls. 

“So,” Michael picks up from where he’s stopped talking. “You want me to have a key to your house. Because weʼre apparently great friends now.” 

When he words it like that, Alex feels like a gigantic stupid brat. He simply nods. 

“That puts me where exactly, at the same level of friendship as Valenti?” Michael sighs. “Alex, you’re giving me a key to your house as a graduation gift.”

“I know what I wanted it to be, okay?” Alex finally explodes, pride and caution be damned, and Buffy huffs in surprise. “Sorry, girl, I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just—you make me nervous, Guerin.” 

“I make you nervous enough that I’m Guerin once again?” Michael chuckles. Alex wants to draw back into himself, pick the guitar up once again and hide behind it, but Michale catches his movement and stops him with his free hand on top of Alex’s. “Do you have any idea of how nervous _you_ make me, Alex? I bet you don’t. Man, I wanted you to be here already and then I didn’t, because I’d have to talk to you, but that isn’t the only thing I want to do and it made me anxious because I don’t know what you think about this whole _thing_ , and I’ve missed you so much and I’ve realized that we’ve kinda—”

“—been dating without knowing?” Alex provides when Michael gets lost in his own speech. “At least that’s what Maria and Kyle think.”

“That’s what everyone else thinks as well,” Michael says shaking his head. “Is it true? We’ve been dating, this whole time?”

Alex remembers all those shared moments during the past three years — even before, if he’s being honest with himself — and he nods. Every lunch spent at the Crashdown, every road trip to take down yet another Project Shepherd facility, every night waiting by the Airstream fire, all the stargazing they’ve done over the months they were together in Roswell, all the phone calls and emails when they’ve been apart. They’ve been acting like a couple without actually realizing it.

And somehow, seeing the same hope he feels reflected in Michael’s tentative smile, Alex isn’t scared of what’s to come anymore.

“Yeah, I think so, Michael.”

“So what’s this then, Alex? I can take it if you really mean this key to be just something you give a friend,” he explains. There’s a stutter in his voice, a faltering wisp of air by the end as though he’s trying to conceal the pain those words cause him. “But if this means—Alex, if this is a promise for more. I don’t think—I don’t think I could take it if it wasn’t.”

“There’s plenty space for the Aistream in the backyard,” Alex finds himself saying stupidly. “I know you don’t want to get rid of her, when the time comes.”

“And, as always, we’re putting the cart before the horse,” Michael chuckles again. “Okay, I’ll be the one to do it, because you’ve been the one brave enough to bring me a key to your house.” He inhales deeply, and then smiles. “Alex Manes, would you come to my graduation party tonight with me? As my, uh, my date?”

“I guess it’s just fitting,” Alex smiles back, the happiness in Michael’s eyes contagious. “After all, I just kinda asked you to move in with me.”

“Finally!” they hear through the door, Buffy barking at the noise and then focusing back on them, her tail wiggling happily at their exchange.

“Finally?” Alex mouths to Michael, whos’ already straightening up from his spot kneeling on the floor and placing his hands on top of Alex’s thighs. 

“Told you,” Michael whispers, leaning in until he’s a breath away from Alex’s lips. “Everyone thinks we’ve been dating for the past three years.”

“Maybe we should cave in, then,” Alex retaliates before Michael kisses him, and the overwhelming feeling of _belonging_ finally takes over him.


End file.
